Stand In The Rain
by o.OchantelO.o
Summary: Follows Dawn post season 6. How will she deal with the loss of her best friend? Can you ever truly lose someone if you fight to keep them in your heart? Dawn/Tara friendship
1. Chapter 1

Title: Stand in the Rain  
>Author: Chantel<br>Rating: T  
>Summary: Dawn is grieving<p>

Authors Note:

****Quote and title from "Stand in the Rain" by Superchic(k)  
>Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy. I don't own the song. I'm just borrowing them. Also, I'm not making any money off of them. Wheee.<p>

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><p>****"She won't turn around.<p>

The shadows are long and she fears if she cries that first tear,

The tears will not stop raining down"

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><p>It was raining the first time Dawn visited her. She looked down and a wave of emotion crashed into her, she fell to her knees. Her heart slammed against her rib cage as drops of water hammered against her skin.<p>

With each beat and each drop, the wall of indifference she had constructed wavered- until finally, it tumbled. A tidal wave emerged and Dawn was swept away. Her hands gripped the grass ferociously, anchoring herself against the consuming storm.

Tears streamed down her face, burning a path against her cool skin.

Her hair matted and clung to her face.

Her muscles became tight. Something was happening inside of her.

The silence of the graveyard became overbearing then. Clenching her eyes, the young girl opened her jaws and howled.

Her strangled cry pierced through the rain, the air and the atmosphere.

Her body quivered with grief, surged with anger, and hummed with hate. But her cry? Her cry resonated across the stones of the dead, hissing only loneliness.

Dawn stayed that way for a long time.

She screamed until there was no breath left in her lungs.

Cried until she had no more tears.

And then she began to pound the earth beneath her until her knuckles were bloody and her energy had drained.

The rain softened and Dawn's whisper filled the silence louder than gun shot ever could, "You said you'd never leave me.."

Her gaze flickered from the now muddy ground before her to the tombstone.

The cold grey stone remained quiet.

"You said it would be okay"

Whether she had failed to notice before or not, Dawn would never remember for sure, but the rain stopped fully.

The air was damp in her lungs, heavy. She traced the words etched in the stone carefully. Her fingers trailed over the letters and numbers, gliding over the glossy surface repeatedly.

"You lied, Tara.." she had whispered finally.

Dawn stood then, her posture rigid and her eyes hard.

"You lied and I hate you for that.."

Water droplets made a course down the front of the tombstone and Dawn couldn't help but liken them to the blondes tears.

The words hung in the air as the brunette turned and walked away.

Dawn refused to look back the entire walk home.

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><p>tbc<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Note: **** from Stand in the Rain by Superchic(k).

****"She wants to be found  
>The only way out is through everything she's running from<br>wants to give up and lie down."

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><p>There's a storm the night that Dawn realizes she's scared.<p>

Lightning strikes in the distance, sharp against the night sky, and the power flickers. The young teen walks through her home gathering candles. Darkness and Sunnydale don't really go all that well together. Sure, she's safe from vampires but there are all sorts of other baddies that can enter her home without an invitation. She'd rather see them coming if they decide to come around for a visit.

She walks towards Buffy's new room without much thought. That's where the majority of the long burning candles are, so that's where she goes. Footsteps slow to a halt in front of the open door, the room is dark. Lit only by the moon and the electricity of the sky.

Dawn lets her fingers trace over the wood frame gently as she looks into the room. She stands there for several minutes, quiet, before the glint of the newly repaired window catches her eye. The moonlight streams in through the window, and shadows dance across the glass as the wind sways tree branches back and forth.

Her eyes squint, searching for something. She's not sure what but she feels as if something's not quite right. It's as she is standing there moments later, looking helplessly at the glass that she realizes what she's looking for. She discovers what's out of place.

The glass is unmarred. Perfect. It's unscathed. Dawn panics then. Her eyes jolt across the room. Everything has changed.

The carpet is fresh, the bedding's been changed, the dresser's been moved and the picture frames, removed. She wills herself to move further into the room, but her body seems paralyzed.

That's when a thought occurs to the girl: she hasn't been in this room since Tara.  
>A sudden weight is thrust upon her chest.<br>It's been two weeks since Dawn's visit to the blonde's grave.  
>Two weeks since she uttered those words of anger, and two weeks since she's slept for more than a few hours at a time. Tara monopolizes her thoughts.<p>

Her socks sink into the carpet as she enters the room. It feels different than last time. She treads carefully instead of confidentially.  
>She is quiet instead of loud.<br>She's scared instead of calm..

As she approaches the place where Tara had lay, a shiver runs down her spine. It tingles it's way through her body and settles heavily in the pit of her stomach. There is no evidence that anything out of the ordinary had happened. Dawn kneels to the floor, her hands trebling as she threads her fingers through the fabric of the carpet. There is no body, no broken glass. There is no bloodstain. The scent of copper does not hang in the air the way it did that day. Three weeks ago there had been carnage. Now all that remained were memories.  
>Tara's death had been erased from this place.<br>The room doesn't smell like lavender anymore. She sniffs the air and doesn't smell the familiar hint of vanilla she's used to.. And that's when a thought slams into her with such a force that she loses her balance.  
>It wasn't just Tara's death that had been erased. It was her life, too.<br>Somehow Tara had just faded away. In just three weeks she had let her fade away.

Thunder booms outside, breaking her from her reverie. The rain blasts onto the window and Dawn becomes angry. She stands and grabs the first thing within her reach, Buffy's mace. Dawn slams the weapon into the window, shattering the glass to pieces. It scatters around her and the wind howls as it rushes through the newly made opening.

Suddenly, Dawn feels confined. She's suffocating inside of the room. There are too many thoughts screaming through her head. She takes the mace and breaks the rest of the window. The storm rages outside, lightning flashes as she raises her arms and delivers the final strike towards the glass. Rain hits her face then and she closes her eyes.

Scenes play inside her head.

Thumb wrestling. Pancakes. Laughing at Sponge Bob. Tara holding her while she cried because of Kirsty. Milkshake days. Blowing off class together once because Dawn needed to go back to Tower where Buffy had died and didn't want anyone else to know. Being outsiders together. Being strong together.

Colours swirl past her eyes and her mind turns to fog. She's alone. Her best friend is gone and all that remains is an aching void in her chest. One thought escapes through her haze of emotion: If it only took three weeks for Tara to escape from this room, how long would it take for Tara to escape from her heart?  
>Dawn drops the mace and clenches her fists together tight.<br>She will never forget. She swears it.

She refuses to cry but lets the water droplets collect on her face without wiping them. If a tear slips out and she doesn't notice, she's still held her ground.  
>She promises herself that tomorrow she will visit Tara's grave.<br>She will always remember. She swears it.  
>Even as the thoughts go through her mind, her chest aches with the fear of forgetting.<br>Suddenly, the terrors of Sunnydale don't seem as bad.

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><p>Should I continue? Send some reviews my way.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Stand In The Rain  
>Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, nor do I claim to. Non-profit creative flow follows.<br>Authors note: **Memories are in italics**. Also, remember that this is set originally in 2002. Spoilers for 'Normal Again'.

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><p><em>Tara's smile is contagious as she laughs at her. <em>  
><em>"You know what, call me crazy, I don't care. William DaFoe is one of the dreamiest guys out there." Dawn crossed her arms at the blonde as she defended her pick. Tara started at her, wide eyed, and started laughing harder. <em>  
><em>The teen huffed, caving and joined in laughing. <em>

"_Whatever," Dawn chuckled, "you opinion doesn't count. Last time I checked your ability to find guys hot at all was severely lacking." _  
><em>She bumps Tara on the shoulder with her own as they sit on the back step of the Summer's house. <em>

"_Oh Sweetie," the blonde laughs, "You can think he's dreamy all you want. I support that. But, in case you need to write out wedding invitations one day? It's Willem, not William"_

_Dawn can feel her cheeks flush red as she stammers out a quiet "oh. Yeah, I knew that" _

_Tara flings an arm over her shoulders and pulls her in for a small hug, "As far as men go though, he's definitely handsome. A little old for you, though. Don't you think?" _

_The teenager rolls her eyes and sticks her tongue out in jest. _

"_Our love is ageless," she insists dramatically before giggling._

A less-than-manly squeal from her left breaks her from her memory.  
>Dawn watches the screen without seeing anything playing on it before she gives up and grabs the remote. She hit's the 'off' button violently before slamming the electronic down on the couch beside her.<p>

"Hey!" Xander screams from beside her, "That was the new Spider-Man trailer! Green Goblin! Willem Dafoe!" he whines, pointing at the now vacant tv screen.

"Deal with it," she snarks.

Dawn stands and walks away from the tv, from Xander, and walks towards the back of the house and out door.

Confused the man calls to her, "Dawn?.. Dawn? Where are you going?"

"Outside" is the only thing he hears as the door slams.

The sun beams down on her as she sits in the same spot she had on that day. The day that Buffy had tried to kill them all.

After leaving the basement and making sure everyone was okay, Willow, Xander and Buffy had set about making a new batch of demon anti-dote. Tara had led her out back.

Dawn remembers the way her wrists hurt from being bound and the way Tara used a healing spell to lessen the pain. The Wiccan hadn't pushed, made excuses or even tried to rationalize what they had all just encountered. She simply linked arms with Dawn, and waited.

The teen remembers how she cried into the blondes shoulder.

"_No one listens to me."__  
><em>_"Life's not fair."  
>"They never let me help."<em>_  
><em>_"I'm not a kid anymore."_

Tara had listened until Dawn was finished ranting, looked the teen square in the eye and spoke. The younger Summer's smiles to herself as she remembers how shocked she had been to hear Tara's response.

Dawn closes her eyes and inhales the summer air. She lets her fingers reach toward the spot where Tara had sat beside her. The wood is warm against her hand.

"_You're right" _

_Dawn is taken aback as the words process in her brain. She looks at Tara, confused, "I'm.. right?" __  
><em>_The blonde nods and quirks a smile. Her blue eyes shine under the suns rays and her hair catches the light as she pushes it behind her ear. "You are." The wiccan states simply. _

_Dawn hesitates for a moment before continuing on, "Aren't you, like.. supposed to tell me that they're just looking out for my best interests? That I'll understand when I'm older or something like that?" _

_Tara chuckles, "I could say that, if you'd like me to?"_

_The brunette shakes her head looks at her feet. _

"_Dawn" Tara speaks softly, "As much as we all might like to believe that you'll always be 'Lil' Dawnie', you're growing up."_

_The teen looks up at Tara, "Duh" she mutters wryly. _

"_You're right about everything you just said. The world sucks sometimes. The world is also a beautiful place. It's strange and scary and powerful. But.. You can't just demand respect from it. You have to earn it. If you want people to see you, act in a way that they'll notice- positively, of course" the blonde pauses and raises her eyebrow. "Stealing? Sneaking out? Shutting down?" _

_Dawn rolls her eyes and scoffs, she's been waiting for this from Tara."Yeah, I know. Begin your lecture of how I'm immature and how I'm turning into a delinquent and am ruining my life. I've heard it all already. Apparently I'm going to land in jail within the next two years."_

_Tara chokes back a laugh, "I wouldn't go that far."_

"_What." Dawn deadpans, "You don't think I sound like a hardened criminal?" she challenges sarcastically. _

_The blonde sighs and thinks hard before responding, " You sound like me when I was your age" _

_This catches the younger girls attention. "Like you?"_

"_Ah yeah," Tara nods, "You'd be shocked."_

"_What'd you do? Get caught J-walking?" Dawn laughs, "I can't imagine you doing anything too terrible." _

"_You've met my family, Dawn," it's a sombre statement. Blue eyes cloud slightly and Dawn sees, for possibly the first and only time, the hint of a shadow behind them. Even when the blonde's father had threatened to take her away, Tara's eyes were always clear as day. _

"_D-demons come in all different shapes and sizes. Especially where my lineage is concerned."_

_Realization strikes Dawn like a fist, "I.. I never.." she stumbles over her words, "I mean I guess I just..-"_

"_Never put things together that way?" Tara smiles. It's and understanding smile, not a patronizing one. _

"_I guess not," the teen whispers. _

"_Hey, it was a long time ago. My point is that I was a pretty angry kid. I did a lot of stupid things for a lot of reasons that no one but me seemed to understand or care about."_

"_Like what?" It's so quiet that Tara almost doesn't catch the question when Dawn asks it. _

_She takes a deep breath, "Well, for starters I snuck out almost every night for months after my mom died." _

"_I came home drunk. I stopped listening. I started fights with my father and Donnie knowing full well what would happen if I did." _

_Dawns eyes widened as she listened to Tara speak about her adolescence. She had no idea what Tara had gone through as a teenager. She moved closer to the blonde as she listened to her story. By the end, Dawn sat, huddled in Tara's side with a blank expression on her face. _

"_Wow," she uttered. Tara nodded in confirmation. _

"_It.. it f-feels like no one can see you? Like you're invisible."_

_The statement hit hard for the teenager. "Yeah.." she whispered_

"_But you're so.. I mean. You're so different. You're the warmest person I know, Tara. You're the glue. Not the kid with the scissors waiting to cut everything up. What changed?" _

"_I did."_

"_That simple, huh?" _

_Tara gave her a crooked smile and tipped her head, "Not exactly. But, one day I woke up and realized I wasn't who or what I wanted to be. That's where it starts, you know? The world won't ever really see you until you start seeing yourself, Dawnie."_

_Off of the teenagers incredulous look, the Wiccan added, "It doesn't have to be a complete picture yet."_

_Dawn thought about it for a minute before responding. "I don't really see anything.. at least not anything that doesn't revolve around a game of "Anywhere But Here" she says quietly.  
>"I see lots," the older girl answers without missing a beat. "I see a girl who was just tied up against her will and almost died, and the first thing she wanted to do when she was free was help the<em> _person who put her in that position. I see a girl who is hurt. I see someone who tries, despite everything the world has thrown at her, to keep it together. I see a strong, independent woman who loves so much that it hurts. I see you, Dawn." _

_Tears run silently down Dawn's face as Tara's words sink in. She bites her lip and forces a small laugh out, "Yeah." She nods, reaching for the comfort of the blondes message, "Okay. I guess so.." _

_Emotions high, the teen retreats from the topic and adds, "As long as I can still see myself on a beach with William Dafoe."  
>Tara looks at her oddly for a second before both girls crack up. The blondes arm snakes around her waist and pulls her in for a hug. <em>

_Dawn is surprised to find that she has never felt safer in her whole life. _

Her eyes open.

Dawn traces shapes across the wooden surface. Her fingers dance over the worn steps as the memory washes over her.. it feels like a life time has past since she sat here with the blonde.

Dawn grows up a little bit in that moment, a solid resolve sliding into place that she will strive to be the person that Tara had seen her to be.

A lump forms in her throat and she allows her eyes to water without fighting against it.

She clenches her jaw tight as her lip begins to tremble.

When she lets her eyelids fall shut again, a few tears glide down her face and onto the porch.

Her chest constricts against the weight of Tara's absence. A steady burn resonates through her torso and works it's way to the very tips of her fingers and toes.

She misses Tara with everything she has.

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><p>What'd you think?<br>Yay? Nay?  
>Send me a review and I'll send you another chapter :)<p>

Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Title**: Stand In The Rain  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I own nothing. I make zero profit from this. Just expressing nerd solidarity.  
><strong>ReviewsFeedback: **Would love to hear your comments. Seriously, send em my way. Please? And thank you!  
><strong>Authors Note<strong>: The title has been taken from the song, Stand In The Rain by Superchic(k)

* * *

><p>It's damp the day Dawn realizes that she's not alone.<p>

The air is heavy with moisture as she leans against the grave that's become more of a home to her than her own room. She's comfortable here. Sure, it's the graveyard and it's probably not the best place in the world for the slayers sister to be hanging out, but she made a deal with Buffy. She would only come during the day. Add to that the bottle of holy water next to her thigh and the cross within her reach, and Dawn feels as though she's more than placated her sisters need to overprotect.

Not that it really matters. Buffy doesn't know she is here.

No one knows that she is here.

She doesn't feel the need to advertise the time she spends here. Since it's during daylight and work hours, no one ever asks about her whereabouts and she's content to let them just assume she's out horsing around with Janice.

This is her time. Her private moments with Tara's headstone.

She can grieve in this place, she can remember.

She doesn't force smiles here or pretend that Tara isn't really gone. She doesn't ignore the fact that Willow almost destroyed the world and she doesn't pretend that she doesn't understand why she did it.

This is the place where Dawn can be Dawn. And Tara can be gone, but not forgotten.

As much as it hurts the teen, she'd rather feel the sting of Tara's loss than the emptiness of hollow rooms.

It angers her that no one talks about Tara. It grates at her very being and makes her want to strike out hard at everyone around her.

They just moved on without a thought.

Pictures were taken down, floors were scrubbed cleaned, windows replaced and hearts sealed.

Xander cleared out the boxes of Tara's dorm room and disposed of the contents. He won't even talk about what he did with them.

Buffy avoids any mention of the blonde haired ally she once shared a house with. She lives in the room where Tara died and doesn't so much as bat an eyelash about it.

Anya.. doesn't come around.

Spike took off.

Giles is in England with Willow.

And as for Willow? Dawn is pretty sure that Willow is the only person she would be able to look in the eye without wanting to slap across the face. Which is saying a lot given their last meeting.

The brunette has never come across any other visitors from her family at the blondes grave. And she would know if they had come.

Dawn visits Tara so regularly that the grounds keeper and she have forged a weird friendship. Not that she minds, of course.

Since the teen has started exchanging pleasantries with the man, Tara's grave is a little better kept and the grass is a little greener.

It brings a smile to her face. She likes the thought of someone else looking out for her friend. Even if it's someone who will never be granted the privilege of having known her.

The wind rustles it's way through her long, dark hair and Dawn is brought out of her thoughts. She looks at her wristwatch and sighs, 15 more minutes and she has to head out for the day.

Wiping the moisture off of the stone, Dawn lets her fingers linger on the last date carved into the rock. She's been here all day. Dawn woke with the sun and headed out before the majority of the world had stirred.

She had packed a lunch, a book, and had set out on her way.

As she had walked the grassy hill leading to Tara's burial site, she tugged at the strings of her sweater. The aching in Dawn's chest had yet to lessen, but she found herself growing to find solace in it. Today the ache of Tara's loss burned without remorse inside her heart.

She was grateful. She felt more connected to her friend.

Today is June 7th. It's been a month.

Her breath catches as she traces the words, over and over again and then once more. There's a sick feeling crawling up her throat, threatening to send her over the edge. Against the unnaturally cool, damp air she trembles.

The weather has been cold this summer. The temperature has reached record lows in Sunnydale. Dawn humours herself with the thought that even the sun is mourning along with her.

She loses herself in the patterned writing of the grave marker and startles when her alarm goes off, signalling her need to depart.

Dawn doesn't wipe the tears from her eyes. She doesn't need to hide her tears here or fight against them.

She stands to leave and almost falls backwards when a person appears out of thin air. The teenager screams and prepares to defend herself when she notices Anya standing in front of her.

The vengeance demon is awkward, looking shocked and agitated, holding a box of candies and three different types of beverages.

The two stare at each other for a long moment before Anya speaks, "What are you doing here?" she barks out, the surprise is evident in her voice.

This sets Dawn off.

"What are you doing here?" she snarls back, "Getting ready for a party?" she accuses, pointing to the items in Anyas hands.

The blonde rolls her eyes and walks forward to Tara's headstone. She places the items there gently before sitting on the earth.

"They're Tara's favourite," she answers bluntly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Her face twists slightly, before her voice softens and she adds, "Were. They were her favourite."

An awkward silence descends upon them then. "Weren't you just leaving?" the blonde asks, making no attempt to hide her discomfort at Dawn's continued presence.

Dawn doesn't even know what to say. Anger wells up inside of her and she thinks about screaming before she remembers where she is.

"Why do you even care? Am I sabotaging one of your demon rendezvous? That's real sick, even for you." The teen crosses her arms and narrows her eyes, "Leave. Now."

The look on Anya's face is sullen.

"Really?" she asks tiredly, "Are you really that pigheaded that you think I'd come here to-! You know what, nevermind! You scoobies are all the same! Judge the weak, forget the innocent and fight against anyone who tries to say otherwise! Why am I here! Why are YOU here! Why are you ALWAYS here!"

Dawn physically takes a step back. She's not sure if Anya knows it or not, but as soon as her outburst began, tears began to flow as well.

"You came to visit her.."

The words sound foreign as they leave her mouth.

"Of course I came," Anya rasps out before adding quietly, "I come here every night I can.."

Dawn is at a loss for words. She's never seen Anya look so… human. So fragile. Even after the wedding, Dawn's not sure her face held the same reserved sadness that it does now. She suddenly feels uncomfortable. Guilty.

"I'm sorry.." she whispers, "I come here a lot too.." She trails off as she looks sheepishly at her feet.

"I know," Anya adds and then it's quiet.

Their eyes meet and something passes between them. Some kind of mutual understanding. A recognition.

The sun starts to set. It's Anya who points it out. "It's getting dark. You should go."

Dawn doesn't want to leave. But the sky, and the look in the other woman's eyes tell her she has too. She nods her head, understanding that Anya has come here for the same reasons that she has. It's not something either one of them are ready to share yet.

As Dawn turns to leave she hears Anya mutter a 'thank you.' The teen begins her trek home when the voice sounds again, this time louder and surer.

"She was my best friend," Anya states.

Dawn feels the burn of her heart spread further through her body.

She stops and casts a glace over her shoulder. Anya is facing the grave as she speaks,

"I love her.."

Dawn can feel the pain in the words.

"Me too.." she replies and turns and heads home. There is nothing left to say right now.

Maybe later. But not right now. She takes the vengeance demon off of her list of people to slap in the face.  
>She risks another glance back and sees Anya tracing the date, as she had done before.<p>

Dawn swallows the lump in her throat.

"Me too.." she whispers to herself, praying that somewhere, somehow, Tara can hear them.

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><p>Thanks for reading!<p>

Send a review my way? :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Title**: Stand In The Rain  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I own nothing. I make zero profit from this. Just expressing nerd solidarity.  
><strong>ReviewsFeedback: **Would love to hear your comments. Seriously, send em my way. Please? And thank you!  
><strong>Authors Note<strong>: The title has been taken from the song, Stand In The Rain by Superchic(k)

* * *

><p>It's windy the day Dawn truly understands about ghosts.<p>

The worst part about summer is the spare time, Dawn decides. There is so much of it.

Too much.

Too much time to it sit and think. Too much time to remember. Too much time to reply scenes in her head over and over again until she's sick.

Too much time retrace every second that she spent watching over Tara's body.

There are things that are burned into her mind, now. Memories that most people would fight to forget.

The way Tara's skin felt when she reached out to help her. Not cold, but not the usual warmth that surrounded the blonde.

The small amount of blood that oozed out, sickeningly, of the gunshot wound when Dawn tried to revive her in the moment between shock and denial. The moment that convinced her that she could save Tara.

The calm expression on the blondes face, and the gentle way her hair cascaded around her. The hair that still smelled, faintly, of shampoo.

The way the sun moved across Tara's face as it rose to it's peak and then set for the day. The gentle glow of the moon that bathed Tara in a dull light, as if to say 'goodnight.'

Dawn clings to these things for survival. They are essential to her.

They haunt her.

Dawn can see shadows of Tara everywhere in her life, and eventually, those shadows start to take form.

The espresso pump is crowded when she sees her.

That amount of people doesn't really take her by surprise. The coffee hub is a popular spot, and early-July brings about a large group of walk-in customers.

The wind rustles through the outside patio as Dawn sips on her mocha latte. She licks her lips, accidentally moving bits of chocolate onto them. The wind cools the syrup and her lips become sticky.

Dawn grumbles and leaves her table to get a napkin. It's taken and occupied as soon as she stands.

"Figures," she rolls her eyes to herself.

And that's when she sees her.

Soft, dirty blonde hair sways gently in the wind before settling over shoulders.

Shoulders that are covered by a baby blue long sleeved shirt, that's form fitted.

Everything happens in slow motion after that. All the sound from the patio is blocked out.

Dawn is frozen where she stands, a few paces behind the object of her attention.

Suddenly, the woman turns around. Dawn chokes out a sob. Tara's clear blue eyes are staring back at her, warm and loving.

She flashes Dawn her trademark smile, quirking one side of her mouth into a grin first.

"Tara.." the teen whispers, heart hammering in her chest as her mocha falls from her grip and crashes to the pavement.

The world snaps back into focus.

"Whoa, are you okay?" the girl rushes forward to help Dawn.

Dawn can't respond. Everything is wrong.

She's too short, her nose isn't quite right. Her eyes are blue-grey instead of sparkling.

Her hair is too short. Her voice is too deep.

Everything is so wrong.

Suddenly there are hands on her arms, steadying her. She hadn't notice that her legs had given out.

"Holy shit. Are you okay?" the girl repeats, "Here. You should, like, sit down or something."

Everything about her is wrong. This isn't Tara. Why had she thought this was Tara?

They don't even really look alike, now that Dawn has a closer view.

"Sweetie? Can you hear me?"

That snaps Dawn out of it. "Don't call me that!" she barks, unaware of how odd her behaviour is looking to the people around her.

"Whoa. Chill, sorry. So you're okay then?" the girl asks, slightly put off.

"What?" she asks confused.

Everything catches up with her, then. "Oh," she whispers, "Yeah. Yeah I'm fine. Sorry."

The girl regards her carefully, "You sure? I can, like.. call someone for you if you want?"

"No! I mean, it's okay, no thanks." She gets up and starts walking home.

"There's no one to call.." she lets out, allowing the wind to carry her words away.

After that day, Dawn sees Tara everywhere. She sees ghosts.

At the grocery store, the cinema. It's like the universe is mocking her and she decides to avoid all the places that Tara's face seems to appear for as long as she can.

Eventually, though, Dawn breaks down. It only takes a few days.

She seeks out places Tara frequented on purpose. She wants to see those ghosts. She calls them out.

For a little while, the teen begins to suspect that maybe Tara is trying to reach her from the afterlife.

After a dozen failed attempts to contact Tara during a séance, Dawn gives up on that theory.

Dawn's not new to the idea of the supernatural.

It's something she lives with on a daily basis. Hell, she, herself, is a nice supernatural shade of shiny green.

She reads about possessions, spirits, souls and everything else she can get her hands on. It's useless. What she's dealing with isn't supernatural.

She never expected to be haunted by something she had no defence against.

You can't fight what's not actually there. You can't fight these kinds of ghosts.

They're not real.

But Dawn looks for them anyways. Even though she can't feel them. Hug them. Touch them, or smell them.. She stops caring that she's chasing the kind of ghosts that won't go away unless she asks them to.

They're all she has left, she's happy to let them stay.

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><p>Thanks for reading :) .<p>

As always, reviews as more than welcomed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Title**: Stand In The Rain  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I own nothing. I make zero profit from this. Just expressing nerd solidarity.  
><strong>ReviewsFeedback: **Would love to hear your comments. Seriously, send em my way. Please? And thank you!  
><strong>Authors Note<strong>: The title has been taken from the song, Stand In The Rain by Superchic(k)

Set after 'Same Time, Same Place'

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><p>Seeing her is like walking into that bedroom all over again.<p>

Dawn can't help but notice the shade of her hair and how it's almost a reflection of the tint that Tara's blood held. It's longer now as well. Just another similarity she didn't expect to notice.

The moonlight spills across Willow's face as she sleeps. Her chest moves softly, rising and falling in a familiar fashion that Dawn recognizes. There's a pain in the teens chest as she looks at the redhead.

Willow lies flat against the mattress, facing the ceiling. She looks rigid and even in sleep, her expression is slightly pained. Dawn wonders if it's because of her stomach wound, or whether the redhead would have looked lost regardless.

She feels her muscles cramp slightly under the last amounts of paralytic leaving her system. Dawn almost wishes she were still a statue. Maybe then she wouldn't have scampered away when Buffy and Xander had brought Willow into the house.

The teenager had thought she was ready to see Willow again. She had convinced herself it was okay. The past was the past and she had spent a significant amount of time during the summer focusing on the future. Tara's death had almost destroyed her. Tara's absence had slowly chipped away at whatever was left of Dawn's heart and Dawn, herself, was powerless against it. So instead, she built a wall. She took her memories and constructed a wall around her heart. No one was allowed in.

Dawn hid herself on the other side of her wall. Everything else turned into shadows. She had gone through her summer researching and learning everything she could. She devoured every book she could get her hands on. She became 'watcher junior' and everyone left her alone to do it. Highschool had started, Buffy had started training her and her days fell into a routine. The mundane activities keeping her busy enough to grow numb to the pain that had taken up residence inside her heart. But then, Giles had called, and a hammer began to knock against her resolve.

When Dawn looks at Willow again she startles in surprise at the pair of green eyes staring back at her. Willow was awake. Silence descends over the room and Dawn grips the doorframe tightly. Neither girl turns away. She looks at Willow. Really looks at her. Her eyes are dull and worn. There's a panicked look deep inside the green irises, but it's overshadowed by the feeling of emptiness that Dawn gets when she notices that the green orbs no longer hold the brightness they used to. As she watches the redhead swallow, Dawn knows that it's not just jetlag.

"Hey.." she manages to whisper.

Willows eyes dart around the room cautiously as she sits up slightly. Dawn hears her grunt quietly at the effort.

"Don't," she says softly, willing her legs to move further into the room. Thankfully, they comply and she finds herself sitting on the small bed. The redhead props herself up with a pillow. Dawn notices how frightened Willow looks and she quirks a smile at the irony of the situation.

"H-Hey," Willow lets out after a few moments.

Dawn inhales sharply at her stutter. A force inside of her strikes hard against her walls.

There is so much familiarity. Too much. And it's all within her grasp, burning white hot against her skin, temping her to reach out and touch it.

"I'm sorry.."

Willow's voice reverberates throughout her entire body. The last time she'd heard that voice is was thick with anger and hate. Now it's filled with hesitation and a hint of what Dawn decides is shame.

Though she wants to, she cannot find her voice. Instead, she lowers her gaze and seeks out Willow's hand. Her fingers move slowly towards the redheads and when they are within reach, Dawn feels her eyes begin to mist. The burn inside her chest flares up and a lump forms inside her throat. She closes her eyes and reaches out. The second she feels Willow's fingers against her own, the wall she's so carefully constructed around her heart goes up in flames.

Dawn can feel her world turn upside down as their fingers intertwine. Her eyes open and connect fiercely with green ones. Her gaze doesn't falter as Willow stares back at her intensely. There is something passing between them. Something more than knowing and seeing and feeling combined. Dawn can feel a lightning storm inside her chest.

She grips Willow's hand tightly as she watches the tears start to fall from the scared green eyes.

Everything inside of Dawn tears open again. Tara's laugh echoes inside of her head. Tara's smile flashes behind her eyes. The comfort of Tara's embrace flutters across her skin as goosebumps flare up on her arms. Her heart breaks all over again. The sight of Tara under the moonlight, pale and lifeless-

"Stop," Willow rasps out.

"Please, God. Stop."

Willow's chest is heaving as she sucks in air. Her eyes are brimmed with tears and her hands are shaking in Dawn's grasp. She can feel the room go cold and hears the wind pick up outside. The brunette squeezes Willow's hand tighter. It's quiet as the two sit, looking at one another. Tears spill freely from both their eyes.

A tree branch connects roughly with the window and both red and brown hair whips violently to the side as both girls turn their heads at the noise. Light bounces in from outside, a security light in a neighbours back yard.

"That's new.." Willow comments quietly.

"Yeah, after.." Dawn trails off, moving her eyes to the doorway. She takes a deep breath, "After what happened some people got them installed.."

"Oh."

Willows eyes crinkle and she pulls back from Dawn's hand, bringing her fingers together and wringing them nervously.

"I know what you must think of me right now, Dawn.. I. I can't apologize enough."

The redhead looks down as she speaks, her voice breaking slightly as the words come from her mouth. Dawn watches and listens as the girl she's come to see as a sister cower under her gaze. "I.. I don't expect you to forgive me. Or want to be around me. Or feel safe with me here, either. And if you want me to leave-"

"Stop," Dawn interrupts abruptly, "Just. Stop it."

Willow closes her mouth and looks up through the curtain of hair in her face mumbling, "Sorry" softly.

"Willow," the teen commands sternly, "look at me."

The lock eyes again and Dawn swallows hard before continuing.

" don't talk about leaving. I.."

Dawn feels her heart quiver and her throat constrict painfully. She pushes the heartache down and clenches her jaw "I need you here. You are all I have left of her. Please don't take that away from me. "

The words burn as they come out. The wall she spent all summer constructing crashes to destruction.

Willow stares at her, eyes full of tears, and nods.

"I understand what happened," Dawn whispers staring intensely at the redhead.

"I hold nothing against you."

Shock passes through Willow's features as she listens "Dawn. I-"

"Absolutely nothing" Dawn finishes strongly.

The teen stands, having made her point, "It's okay. You should get back to sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

Willow watches her back as she goes, uncertainty written across her face.

Dawn pauses at the door and turns her head to glance at the redhead a final time.

Her voice becomes strong, confident as she speaks, "I forgive you, Willow."

The redhead smiles at her before the words echo past her lips, "And I'm glad you killed him." She clenches her fists and walks from the room unapologetically.

Her strides are long as she walks through the empty hallway. She casts her eyes downwards in a hard stare and one thought pierces through her mind, clearer than anything Dawn has ever felt or known before in her life.

Warren Mears had deserved to die.

And she would never feel sorry for believing that. Willow shouldn't either.

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><p>Thanks for reading :)<p>

Reviews are loved.


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